


White Morning Glory

by BlackWadeWilson



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alpha Diego Hargreeves, Alpha Luther Hargreeves, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Beta Grace Hargreeves, Child Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Fievel Hargreeves, Five is a nickname for Fievel, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves is a Socialite, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Slow Burn, Social Stratification, Tags Contain Spoilers, Werewolf Diego Hargreeves, alright now is when the spoilers start, alternate universe- not siblings, have fun with that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWadeWilson/pseuds/BlackWadeWilson
Summary: Klaus is a socialite living under his father’s thumb and in the shadow of his younger brother’s genius.Diego is the bodyguard tasked with keeping not just Klaus safe but as the hardworking head of the Hargreeves estate.What happens when the guard ends up falling for his charge? Will taboo keep them apart?
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, eventual Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	White Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be chaos start to finish.
> 
> This is also based off of an RP.

_The sun turned over in the sky, streams of gold threading through the ink of night as a blanket of stars and indigo lakes filled with elegant vibrant streams of oranges and reds. The horizon was dripping in rich ornate colors, the horizon turning into a painting of heat and fire. Emerald eyes watched with rapt attention as the world rolled from silence into vibrant wakefulness, birds reading their heads to chirp in the light, the suffocation and chill of night swept away by the heated guidance of day. His father stood proud and tall above him, a willowy imposing figure like the tallest oaken tree in a dilapidated woods ravaged by fire and pain._

_  
_ _Bright eyes surrounded by long lashes glanced down, flashing towards the knotted gnarly hand gripping his cane like the dying roots clinging to their last breath of life. A wrinkled claw, the lines of a long and unforgiving life digging into old pale skin as miniature tremors shook the ancient figure. A long dark coat billowed in the wind, red like blood dripping from the fangs of a wolf blossoming from beneath dark heavy wool. A lip curled, the ancient figure turning his attention to glare at his young son, eyes flashing at him in disgust rather than any semblance of gentleness expected from a father._

_Emerald eyes turned back to the horizon, a pale narrow face avoiding continued contact with the age old figure standing above him. Fear gripped his lungs, breath stuttering in the crispness of the morning, his lungs stolen away by a hard gaze and the heat of the world rising around him. A shiver racked through his small thin body, it wasn’t even that cold, the morning seeming harsher than it was due to the iciness coming off of his father in thick waves. A dark locks coiled around his thin pale face, the unruly ink tendril twining over his skin with untamable wilderness. Thin fingers reached up, the tendril tucked back in place with an anxious air, ribs trapping his anxious lungs as nervousness crawled up his throat. Thin wrists trembled, wide doe like eyes glancing up like a timid animal._

_Standing next to his father, watching the sun rise, he felt like a rabbit next to a wolf. His short time handler stood behind them, her cool gaze meeting his and freezing his soul to its core, his baby brother cradled unfeelingly in her arms. Blond hair curled around her sharp face, the elegant curve of her long neck hidden by a tall collared blouse. Deep rouge was painted on plush lips, her blonde lashes darkened and lengthened by mascara, staring on before her with an impassive gaze. Her sharp features were shuttered and aloof, nervous green eyes glancing back to meet a sheet glassy ice. Thin shoulders fell, his head falling slightly to look at the dew ridden grass. A small droplet of water hit his shoe, the polished black of his shoe shining from the liquid glistening brightly. The high hem of his tall socks fell down pale skin, the navy dyed fabric poking around his ankle._

_Hesitation paused his body, another glance cast to his father before he reached down, tugging up at the treacherous fabric that slipped off of his long thin frame. The sock was rugged up higher, the thin fingers tugging with an anxious scurry. An angry tap of a cold cane against hard stone. The boy’s thin body froze, muscles drawing together and tightening with true unbidden fear._

_“Boy!” His father barked, Klaus immediately straightened, forcing his legs stiff as he silently begged them not to fail him before his family. “Stand up straight and do not make me tell you again.”_

_“Yessir, understood sir,” his voice shook, small and quiet, barely there... barely alive. His words carried all the strength of a whistling breeze in the winter born from the silent clutches of the depths of ice. A pink lip drew itself inward, white teeth digging into the rosy skin, doe eyes drawing wider as his eyes trained themselves straightforward. Silent prayers sent to his knee socks, begging them to stay in place, bidding them to stay up for fear of inspiring the wrath of his father._

_A black car drew closer, the hanging limbs of trees parting and swaying by the black body thrumming past. Wide eyes watched the vehicle pull closer, it’s body turning before him and parking in front of the lawn leading up to the huge gothic mansion standing behind his family. A door opened, a pale blue heel meeting the dark asphalt. Out of the car came a slight woman, her already tall stature heightened by the kitten heels covering dainty feet, a pastel blue poodle skirt blooming out from her hips like a flower blossoming after the wars of winter. A smile was painted on her face, the glimmer in her eyes and the brightness of her smile reminding Klaus of spring. He twitched at the sight, the first glimpse of warmth foreign to him as he melted imperceptibly before the kind woman._

_The door to the car stayed open, a shiny black clad foot with white knee socks appearing in Klaus’ vision. Before he knew it, the door shut with a slam, two boys having followed the blonde woman out and choosing to stand behind her. They couldn’t have been any older than him, both dressed up in their Sunday best. One stood behind his mother but off to the side, his head held high while he puffed his chest out, dark eyes focused on the willowy and imposing form of Klaus’ father. The other however was pressed close to the wide flair of her skirt, his hands clenching and unclenching, Klaus recognizing the signs of someone who hated to stand still or wear formal clothing. A wool vest layered itself over his white button up while black shorts hung off narrow hips, the other boy wearing an outfit near identical to his brother’s if it weren’t for the black tie around his neck._

_Klaus’ eyes trailed up the shorter of the two, grassy green meeting dark forest brown. His breath was whisked away at the intensity of his gaze, yellow flashing in dark pools like light skittering through the break of leaves. There was something curious yet wild to the dark eyes trapping Klaus, his body suddenly frozen before the piercing eyes. A crunch of grass, the spell between the two boys broken by the gritty noise. Air rushed back into stilled lungs, his attention drawn to the tall pastel colored woman stepping forward, white gloves crawling up her arms, her hands gingerly pinching her skirt in a delicate curtsy._

_“Master Hargreeves,” she greeted, her voice smooth like the glassy waters of an untouched spring. The corners of her eyes crinkled, Klaus could’ve sworn he saw the sun radiate out from her expression. “My name is Grace, it is an honor to stand before you sir, thank you for inviting us to work for such an esteemed member of this community.” She brandished a hand, inviting the taller boy to step forward. “This is my firstborn.”_

_“Hello Master Hargreeves, my name is Luther.” his voice was sure and strong, confidence coming off of him in waves. He bowed perfectly at the waist, a respectful look on his face even as he bowed his head down. When he straightened up there was a look on his face that seemed almost excited and ready to receive orders, Klaus felt put off, his stomach coiling at the way this boy seemed so ready to serve. It was wrong to him and his naturally rebellious spirit. The smile on Grace’s face stretched wider, her eyes crinkling more and Klaus briefly wondered if this petite woman before him was joviality personified. “Thank you for having us. I will do everything in my power to pay our due.”_

_Once Luther had finished his spiel Grace turned to her right, inviting her second son forward with an outstretched hand. “And this is my second born.”_

_“Hello M-M-Master Hargreeves, I am Diego,” his voice was quieter and strained, a stutter forcing an unstoppable hesitation into his soft tone. He bowed at the waist, back straight and sharp like a knife, but his eyes flashed, clearly disliking the way he had to brown nose and honor anyone before him. Klaus could hear a sharp breath rush into his Father’s nose, the slight boy not even needing to look up to know that there’s a sour distasteful expression morphing the man’s face. No doubt, it was the one full of unhidden disapproval, green eyes noting the way the corner of Grace’s lips twitched downwards for the barest of seconds. “Th-th... th-th-th... thank you for having us.”_

_“Boy,” Klaus stiffened, wondering what he’d done to deserve being reprimanded before these grateful strangers. His stiffness was only calmed by the stiffness suddenly freezing the tanned boy before him, a treacherous voice in his head whispering that maybe his father's ire would finally be pointed at someone other than him. “While your family is under my employment you will work to eradicate that abysmal stutter to your words. Understand?”_

_Diego straightened up, looking up at Reginald with a quick dart of his eyes before returning his gaze to the grass brushing against his shoes. He nods with muteness freezing his jaw shut, not deigning to verbally answer the willowy man. A leather glove audibly tightens around the hilt of his ornate cane, the noise drawing the pants of panic to echo through the boy’s chest as his ribs turned to an ever tightening cage. Klaus forces himself to stand still and not let his treacherous tongue work without his consent to warn the boy of what he’d done wrong. Again. “Boy! You will always answer my commands with a verbal response. And when you do, you will look at me and give me your full attention. Do I make myself clear?”_

_“Yes sir,” Diego looked up, his face blank if not for the way his eyes flashed again, lip twitching incriminatingly into quick curl. “Understood sir.”_

_There was a venom to his voice, his eyes crackling with yellow every time he spat out the word “sir.” Klaus sucked his breath in, fully recognizing the wild gold that sparked before him, he took an instinctual step back. Green trained on honeyed amber, his shoulders bunching with nerves and anxiety as his hands trembled minutely. Leather creaked dangerously, Klaus’ eyes darting to his father’s tightened hand before trailing up to the old wrinkled face twisted with disdain and disappointment. His stomach turned, flipping and twisting over itself with internalized disgust, fear gripping his heart as he processed the childish mistake he made. Fear in the face of any form of adversary was a sign of weakness, weakness was not something that any Hargreeves can show._

_“Boy,” Reginald growled his irises almost coiling with something dark, true and unbidden disgust deepening the crevices of his wrinkled face. Klaus swallowed instinctively, feeling his body tremble minutely, his green eyes wide as he stared up at his father. “I will deal with you later.” The tremors in his body froze, Klaus akin to a rabbit before the gaze of a large wolf, a tiny part of Klaus’ subconscious would’ve rather go up against an actual wolf instead of his father. He nearly collapsed, feeling his knees go weak the moment his father’s gorgon eyes left his skinny form before straightening out his body with a silent prayer that no one noticed._

_“Yes sir,” Klaus’ voice was like the wind, quiet and soft with trembling whispered words. “Understood sir.”_

_“Grace,” he snapped, his sharp gaze having shifted from his son to the woman before him. “You will meet Pogo at no later than 1100 hours, I trust that will be sufficient time for you and your boys to unpack? The rest of your orders shall be given to you by him, now, I will expect weekly reports delivered to my desk and your sons to be trained well especially that young runt there. It does not reflect well upon my house’s name if even one of my servants is illiterate. Do I make myself clear?”_

_“Yes Master Hargreeves, thank you for your time,” Grace curtsies before him again, her ruffling skirt dragging Klaus’ attention to her. There was still a smile on her face but he could tell, the corners were tight, there was just too much teeth. He could’ve sworn he saw her eyes flash as well, a wild green, like the roiling depths of sea glass ocean during a storm. As soon as the look flashed through her irises it was gone, leaving behind cerulean pools of warm spring water. She was still just as beautiful, just as warm as before, even as she straightened out and turned to her sons to briskly order them around. There was a terrifyingly stark contrast with the way her warm voice dotingly advised her children to the cruel cold words that shot out from Reginald’s mouth like blades dripping in ice._

_“Boy, come,” there it was aloof and cold. Biting orders holding no affection for his first born, Klaus’ body turning on its own volition as if he were in a trance. Reginald’s word held him, moved him like a puppet, his body following after the tall dark figure trampling through the grass. One look, just one, it was all he shot over his shoulder. Green met bright gold, his eyes locking once more with the glowing gaze of the olive toned boy who seemed determined to rebel like Klaus so desperately craved to. “It is time for your daily lessons.”_

_There never should’ve been a reason for the heavy wooden doors slamming shut behind him felt like the resounding toll of the death bell. Lessons. He made a mistake earlier, it was time he learned from it. It was time he learned how to never show weakness._

* * *

Sunlight crawled from under curtains, the thin stripe of golden glow slicing across closed eyelids. Tanned skin glowed under the illuminating light, the room was silent if not for the whooshing of steady breaths hitting the air. The steady beat broke, a heady gasp filling the room as eyelids popped open. It wasn’t a soft romantic rousing from the veil of the night’s illusory clutches written about in so many novels, there was nothing gentle about the way his broad sleeping form snapped back to reality like the crack of a whip. All or nothing, that’s the way he’s always been. A grunt leaves the man, immediately sitting up so he can get ready for the day. He steps over to his bathroom, quickly crossing the carpet to the bathroom door, entering it so he can wash and groom himself and prep himself for the day. The man scrubbed himself off dutifully, stripping himself down so he can press himself beneath the water’s unforgiving downpour before stepping out and dressing himself up for the day in his ultimately simplistic and minimalistic professional attire. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out, dark eyes once closed popping open to glare into the mirror, eyes flashing a molten yellow before ducking away. It was a normal day for him, he checked the time, the early morning ticking away at him with spindly erratic skittering. He stretched out, wincing slightly at the way his skin snapped and stretched, his body burning marginally at the feeling. Another groan leaves the man, heavy feet stepping back over to his bed to pull on his boots. He exited his room, blinking in the dim lights of the hallway before his senses were blasted with a burst of input. There was a bustle of life within the Hargreeves mansion, staff and servants bustling about with an excited edging on nervous energy, people shouting down the hallways and making the darkly dressed man itch. 

Diego curled his lip, dark eyes eying the sparse security team with distrust. He slipped down the halls and corridors, avoiding the noise as much as possible, the cacophony hurting his ears and sending his senses into overdrive with the sheer amount of input. Scarred knuckles rapped against a thick oak door, the wood painted an old and archaic dark brown to match the rest of the dark and dim mansion. He waited a minute with a patience he didn’t feel, strong arms crossing in front of his built chest before knocking again choosing to wait another minute. The door did not open. Dark eyes glanced at the time, his eyes narrowing at his watch before he puffed a breath. His hands flew to his hips, foot tapping in time with the titter of ticking seconds. The tanned man bent to his agitation to press his ear against the door to futilely listen for any sign of movement he doubted he would hear. 

Silence... minus a loud snore from the other side of the door. With an angry groan of annoyance the olive toned man twisted the bronze handle, shoving the door open aggressively before he was hit with the stench of sex. Sourness dragged the corner of his lips lower, the burly man glancing around the room. Dark eyes searched for a companion to the sleeping body in bed. Seeing none Diego opted for a slightly more unconventional means of rousing the sleeping man before him, opting to save time and energy rather than giving himself a headache so early in the morning. 

A splash. An indignant gasp, clipped flowers strewn across silken sheets and a head of twining black curls. The corner of Diego’s mouth that had been dragged down with displeasure quirked up in the most minute expression of amusement before fading away behind a wall of stony blankness. Black curls were matted down by the water’s touch, the drenched locks flattened against a pale face as pink lips spluttered at him, whines crawling up from a long pale neck as they hissed out from between stark white teeth. Green met brown, irritated betrayal meeting the flicker of annoyed amusement.

“Good morning princess, time to get up, you’re late.” Diego huffed, quirking a brow when the lean man before him ever so kindly flipped him off only to bury back under the now very wet bedding. An unimpressed sigh left plush lips, weathered hand dragging down over his strong face as Diego leaned in. Calloused hands with long near delicate fingers gripped the sheets, a sharp fake smile stretched across his strong handsome face. “I said: Get. _Up_!”

In a flash, the bedding was ripped away from Klaus, exposing his stark naked body to the cool air. The slight man gasped again, whining as goosebumps immediately rose on his pale skin, Diego’s back already turned on the stuttering shivering man. He covered his face, eyes closed with a needy whimper as Diego stalked over to the windows to rip the curtains open, bright light covering Klaus in a thick film as it burst into the room. Another whine, another tired eye roll as a silent response. “Come on Klaus. I’m not getting in trouble just because your lazy ass refuses to get up before noon.”

“If I agreed to get up before 11 but after 9:45 would you let me sleep in?” Was the response Diego received, the question pitchy with whines and a hint of joking that Diego wasn’t up to humoring. 

“Ah so at ten, conveniently timed after your morning tutoring session?” Diego’s brow rose impossibly higher, arms crossing agitatedly as his mouth set itself in an unimpressed frown. He knew exactly what Klaus was up to, the realization of failure crawling across the pale man’s face as he gave the olive skinned man a playfully bashful smile. Mischief crackled in his green eyes, giving Diego a look that minutely softened the hard sharp edge of his shoulders, the muscles in his back loosening the barest fraction that only two people in the world could ever see.

“Was that _today?_ I completely forgot,” he was unconvinced, but the playful flutter of ebony lashes over emerald irises had Diego huffing a laugh regardless, smile quirking his thick lips.

“Sure you did, not like it happens every other Thursday,” dark eyes rolled with exasperation before the toughness returned to his muscles body. “C’mon. Let’s get you ready. I don’t need to dress you do I? I’m willing to try but don’t blame me if you end up more bruised than not. I’m not particularly talented at handling delicate things.”

Klaus spluttered incoherently, a blush high on sharp cheekbones, embarrassment coming off the thin willowy man in waves as he all but shooed Diego out of the room to get dressed. He didn’t need help putting clothes on, much less help from a guy the same exact age as him. A huff of a laugh escaped a crooked nose, rich brown eyes like pools of dark mahogany glittering with barest hint of amusement, the sight causing Klaus’ breath to stutter in his chest, the brush of pink on his elegant yet thin face darkening further. A thin hand gripped the edge of the door tightly, oak slamming shut behind Diego with a resounding bang.

Diego checked his watch, timing Klaus with a causal gaze, the watch face glinting in the warm yellow tinted lights of the halls. It was an expensive thing, the price of the watch matching the price of the steel toed black boots laced on his feet, the only thing he wore that he even mildly appreciated from his irritating and overbearing boss. A tight black turtleneck stretched across tanned and sturdy muscle, the fabric of his shirt stretching with every breath, the minute twitches from his restless body barely hidden under the stretchy weave of his shirt. Dark sweatpants draped themselves over powerful legs, knives strapped around his built thighs. He was professional and strong, body built for combat and defense, his sharp eyes hardened and wary even at his own home base operation. A scar curved itself over the side of his face, the white line hooking around his ear only to trace to his temple. He looked every bit of the part he played: the head of the illustrious Reginald Hargreeves’ security system and the personal bodyguard to his first born son, Klaus Hargreeves; although, in Diego’s opinion he sometimes felt more like a glorified babysitter than anything.

The tanned man stood guard outside Klaus’ door for fifteen minutes before the wooden door creaked on ancient hinges, Klaus finally stepping out to start his daily duties. There was a slightly miffed look to Klaus’ face, the corners of his lips turned down in a sour expression. He was breaking Reginald’s dress code again, a pair of tight leather pants and a loose flowing white shirt hung off his thin frame, his long lithe legs were slightly exposed by a crisscrossing panel of ties. Diego absently noted the continued lack of shoes on Klaus’ painted feet. His eyes drew back up, regarding the smudge of smoky eyeshadow and eyeliner making the man look more raccoon than human. Expensive jewelry decorated Klaus, however, the jewels on his fingers and the gold glinting off his ears and long hanging necklaces that ended a few bare inches above his navel showing off his true status. 

“It really took you that long to put on such a sparse get up?” Diego asked blandly, lips twitching to point at the ultimately revealing outfit Klaus was sporting, scarred brow lifting in questioning judgement.

“Do you know how many rings I own?” Klaus retorted, hands flying to his narrow hips as he defended himself from the appraising gaze of his guard. Slender hands accidentally lifted up the bottom of his flowing shirt, the smallest stripe of his sharp hip bones and flat belly poking out to catch Diego’s ever aware, ever watchful gaze. “It’s hard to find the right amount of color and bling to go with the clothes, there needs to be a balance, Di. Besides, the makeup takes a bit too, all those years toiling away in front of a mirror and nearly poking myself in the eye with a pencil... it’s a dangerous job to look as pretty as I do.”

Diego gives Klaus a look, his face bored and ultimately unimpressed. “You look like you got into a fight with a raccoon... and lost.” 

Klaus spluttered again, mouth falling open in offense at Diego’s comment. He was starting to gear up to defend his makeup skills, that or turn around and head back into his bedroom to slam the door in Diego’s face, Diego was hedging his bets on both. A broad hand placed itself on the small of Klaus’ back, his body seeming so easily maneuverable next to the heft and weight of Diego’s burly body. The tanned man guided Klaus away, pointedly making sure that he was ignoring the comments flying out of plush lips at the highest speed known to mankind, dark eyes glancing down to check a titanium watch. “Ah ah ah, I don’t think so, you have exactly 20 minutes to eat breakfast before you set the entire schedule behind.” 

“But Diegoooo,” Klaus whined as if his guard had an ounce of pity inside of him, “I don’t wanna go to class. Or eat breakfast with them, Father’s not even here right now, you can tell them I’m sick or something so I can just eat in my room. I don’t wanna deal with people today...” 

A look was the whining man’s immediate response, dark eyes cutting through his complaints and forcing his jaw to snap shut. He knew that look, it was quiet and angry, professional and aloof, yet it still held the smallest bit of... desperation, as if Diego were asking Klaus to just behave for once. Green eyes darted over to a security camera, the dark lenses carrying an electronic and cold ever watchful eye that held none of the warmth and humor Diego offered. Klaus sobered up immediately... or as well as he could, a whine thrumming from the back of his throat as he crossed his arms with a pout. “Fine. I’ll go to tutoring.”

“Good boy,” there was a sharp glint to the lopsided smirk Diego gave Klaus, a slight rumble and purr warming his low voice. A flush of red bloomed through Klaus’ face, the lean man glancing away from his broad guard. If Diego were a fool he would’ve thought that his lithe charge bit his lip for the barest second, pupils dilating slightly at the teasing praise falling from his thick lips. But he wasn’t, Klaus would never react like that around him, it was simply a trick of the light. It would be foolish to think someone like Klaus would be interested in someone like Diego. “Don’t... don’t worry. You won’t be eating with Fievel and his... company, not today.” The words _‘I wouldn’t do that to you,’_ floated around on the tip of Diego’s tongue before he forced himself to swallow them down, choosing instead to simply pat Klaus on the back as respectfully platonically as he could. He leaned in regardless of modicum, however, drawn like a moth to a flame, holding Klaus kindly. “You’ll be with me, in the dinette, Five has the parlor.”

“S-so uh, what else is on my schedule today?” Klaus’ words stumbled and tripped, a small stutter in his breath catching on his words and making him fumble before the guard. “Is it just tutoring? Everyone seems so busy today...”

Diego rolled his eyes fondly, knowing full well that Klaus never paid attention to anything... but that’s what he was there for. A companion, an organizer, a protector, he was essentially a glorified babysitter with the bonus of being expected to cut down the idiots that actually wanted to _hurt_ his charge. His warm palm on the small of Klaus’ back continued to guide the pale heir, there was no need for him to, but with his hand placed firmly against Klaus’ skin there was a connection made that neither of them were willing to stop. They could never stop it, even when they tried. Dark eyes met green, Diego eying Klaus thoughtfully, deeply before returning his gaze to the hallways and corridors before them.

“Tonight is the full moon,” a rough voice warmed with the slightest heat like the crackle of fire, Diego careful to quiet his tone into a soft murmur. Deep and imposing mahogany trailed throughout the halls before meeting gentle emeralds, wide glittering eyes like the rarest jewels drinking in all of the broad man’s features, studying and gauging him before turning back to trail over the rich wood panels lining the entire house. “That’s why everyone is rushing about: They’re preparing. Now, as for you. You have your biweekly morning tutoring sessions in economics, etiquette, and legal writing.Then you have your meeting with Madame DuBois at 12:30 to talk about your gallery exhibit over lunch; don’t fuck it up by the way, you need this to go well if you want any chance of touring Europe ever again. I don’t know about you but I would actually like the chance to see the Sistine Chapel, and maybe… oh I don’t know, use the Italian I was forced to learn.”

Klaus snorted at that, tugging idly on his shirt as another blush rose up on his face; that entire trip was a debacle and a half when he ran away to join a band of Roma leaving Diego behind to chase him down. The guard was frothing at the mouth by the time he caught up, and Klaus was far too euphoric for Diego’s bad mood at the time. The guard continued, pretending as if the snort never happened. “The meeting will be followed by your _mandatory_ horseback riding lessons at 2, and then the ever so wonderful fencing lesson you skipped yesterday is scheduled for today at 4. You will return to your room before sundown and you will stay there to eat your dinner.”

“If I’m very good today, do you think that you can get me extra dessert?” Klaus asked, leaning up to look deep into Diego’s eyes. Dark lashes fluttered over bright green as the heir rolled his shoulder, the neckline of his loose shirt sliding off the reveal his sharp collarbones. Diego stopped them, taking care to lift the strap of his loose and revealing shirt and put it back in place, long fingers lingering just a second too long on untouched soft skin. He was so close to the security guard, he could smell him, smell the gentle perfume he wore that didn’t make Diego break out in a sneezing fit. “I’m craving triple chocolate trifle... you know, the one with the fudgy brownies and the berries on top? Think you can make that happen? I have a hankering for something sweet and chocolaty.”

Klaus was too close, and Diego for all his self control and nerves of steel, could never say no to those pleading green eyes wide like a babydoll’s and those pouty rose petal lips. His Adam’s Apple bobbed, throat clearing around the sudden blockage rising from his lungs, Diego paused for a second to regard Klaus. Something thrummed deep within him, a hunger like no other, dark eyes burning and claiming Klaus with need. He could just barely see the pulse of Klaus’ blood, the man licking at his lips absently before returning to gaze at his charge. His throat cleared, dark eyes fluttering shut, hand patting lightly over a wiry shoulder. “I don’t see why not... so long as you behave I’m sure I can get you something extra. You just have to not skip your lessons this time. And if, _only if,_ you land this meeting with Madame DuBois... I’ll even make sure you get those little Diplomático rum truffles you love so much.”

The smile Klaus gave him was enough to take Diego’s breath away, his face carefully blank as he watched Klaus sparkle and shine before him. Something deep in his heart shattered and stitched itself back together, the look he was gifted both freeing and caging. It was like stepping out of prison, out of the cages for the first time in years to breathe the fresh air of a crisp spring morning; right before the shackles wrapped themselves around his neck, cutting off that crisp air while the memory haunted his lungs and veins. A deep breath in, deep breath out, Diego stepping back from Klaus to give him a respectably professional distance, ever wary of the cameras littered throughout the mansion. His scarred hand reached out, pushing the door to the dinette open as he lead his charge in, taking care to seat Klaus at the six seater table before heading to the kitchen to get the menu. Arranged on the table was an array of fresh fruit artfully placed in a showing salad filled with mango, strawberries, oranges, pomegranate, and raspberries; any fruit Klaus could want was placed before the man in a large glass bowl. Despite the decadent array, Diego could feel that there were eyes trained on him the whole time, the guard feeling them on his retreating body like lasers honed to his back.

Diego shook his head, trying in vain to clear his mind and refocus on the world around him. Trying to shake out the lingering phantom of brilliant emeralds surrounded by a smokey mass of black and bright white teeth flashing from underneath rose petal pink lips, it was a near impossible venture. He was being ridiculous, Klaus was merely his job and nothing more. Just his job. Only his job. The door to the kitchen was brusquely pushed open, Diego barging in as waves of flakey pastry, spice, egg, and bacon hit his face, the scents swirling through his senses and enticing his mind. Another thick swallow, the guard forcing himself not to salivate at the decadent smells twirling around his head, Diego needing to stay professional despite the rumble in his stomach at the thought of such a feast the scents were inviting. A strong yet gentle unwavering voice broke out from the clouds of sweets and fat, the powerful feminine voice carrying its own strength despite its light and soothing quality. A small smile quirked the farthest edges of Diego’s mouth, the man slinking into the kitchen to place a kiss to expertly coiffed hair, lips landing right on top of her temple. Elegant yet warm and motherly, those were the words that anyone would use to describe his ever doting mother.

“Hello Diego,” there was a bubbly tone brightening Grace’s greeting, the short woman turning to plant a red painted kiss on her son’s cheek. She lifted a thin hand, her long delicate fingers with perfectly manicured hands dusting over her son’s cheek. Small scars pricked themselves across her fingers, thorns, knives, and sewing needles having cut the gentle skin so many times that time permanently placed their marks on her pale digits. “How are you and Master Klaus today? You’re a bit late.”

“Yeah well...” Diego started, reaching out to grab for the menu before it was slid into his hand, his mother taking care to make it a little bit easier on her second born. “You know Klaus, Ma, he doesn’t like waking up unless it’s for cookies, weed, or if the sun has already been out for half the day.”

Grace chuckled lightly at Diego’s words, her kind smile widening just a bit more. A thumb brushed over his high cheekbone, her tanned son ducking his head at the lovingly gentle gesture. “Yes... I suppose it’s lucky that he has you as his fourth motivator. Now, scurry along, I bet he’s getting impatient, he has never been one to wait... not even for you.”

Diego huffed a laugh, marginally quirked lips gently pressing against his mother’s temple once again before he’s sliding away and leaving the kitchen. He pushes the door open, menu in hand, brow quirking as he watches the way Klaus looks at him. Green eyes sparkling as a pink tongue swipes over rose petal lips, true unbidden hunger swiped across Klaus’ face. Hunger and excitement; a treacherous part hidden deep within his psyche wished that Klaus looked at him, just him, like that and not at him whenever he brought food. Or rather... the idea of food, in this case. He handed the menu over, sitting down next to his charge as he waited for Klaus to read through his options for the day.

It was right when Diego speared a slice of pineapple on his fork, that he heard a high pitched giggle and coo. He glanced over, raising a brow as he bit into the fruit. “I take it you know what you want?”

“Crepes!” Klaus replied excitedly, licking his lips as he put his menu down. “Crepes and the waffle Brie bites. Oooo and the crustless mini quichés, I love butternut squash. Maybe some of those raspberry danish squares?”

“Are you gonna save room for lunch, princess?” Diego asked, raising a brow as he took the menu from Klaus and relayed the information right away, knowing when Klaus waits too long he ends up wandering or throwing fruit at him. Often enough... both. “You eat a lot for a skinny little thing.”

“I like breakfast food.” Is the whined response Diego received, another dry huff escaped the security guard as he handed the menu back to his mother’s cooking staff. He turned to see Klaus pouting and defensive, the lean man perched like a bird on his chair as he peeled an orange, biting into the juicy segment. Dark eyes treacherously followed a thin stream of juice that trailed down Klaus’ chin before it was wiped away by a pale hand swathed in a red cloth. He refocused, ensuring that his demeanor never changed despite the odd distraction. “And fruit.”

“Yes I can tell,” Diego walked back over, swatting at Klaus’ legs. “Sit correctly.”

“I will, I will...” Klaus trailed off, his eyes glinting mischievously in a way that always made Diego’s brow rise with distrust. “But only if you sit next to me.”

“I am sitting next to you.”

“ _Noooo_ you’re too far away, closer. Move closer, I want you in cuddle range.”

“Oh my— you’re so needy,” Diego moved closer regardless, flicking Klaus’ forehead with a short laugh. “You want trifle, you want me to sit next to you, you don’t want to go to your mandatory lessons. You’re a spoiled brat, you know that, princess?”

“Owie,” Klaus rubbed at his forehead, pouting at his guard. “Why do you have to be mean to me like that? I am a gentle, fragile flower, I need to be handled delicately.”

“Sure you do,” Diego agreed lightly, forking salmon onto his appetizer plate next to his fresh cut fruit, “that’s why whenever you have nighttime partners over you can hear the screams and growls echo down the halls. Very delicate. Tell me, when you’re with girls are they pegging you? Or are you pegging them?”

Klaus spluttered and turned red, choking on the sparkling wine he poured for himself. His face colored a deep dark red, the man slamming at his chest to clear his pipes as he forced himself not to choke. Green eyes turn wet, tears pricking their corners as he forced himself not to cry from the burning feeling of carbonated wine crawling up his nose and the back of his throat. _“Diego!”_

“What?” Diego lifted salmon into his mouth, disinterestedly biting into the lock of pink fish, watching idly as Klaus spluttered and turned all shades of pink and red. “It’s a fair question, you strike me as a pillow princess to be honest.”

“Oh my god, you could hear us last night couldn’t you?” Klaus held his face in his hands, hiding away from Diego’s teasing yet aloof eyes.

“Oh most definitely.” Diego chuckled, smirking at the way his charge went from human to a tomato in just a few words. “I was surprised she wasn’t still here in the morning, usually I have the honor of taking your trash out.”

“Last night got a little more rowdy than I was expecting,” Klaus curled in on himself, sinking into his seat as he tried to hide himself in his thin shirt. The moment he lifted his shirt Diego could see a little bruise blossoming under the fabric, the redness of the mark half hidden by makeup. His eyes flash, realizing exactly why it took Klaus so long to get ready this morning.

“Yes, I can definitely see that,” Diego teased with a smirk, looking away from Klaus to sip at water instead. The moment Klaus paused to consider him the guard moved in, tugging the heir’s shirt down to expose the flash of barely hidden pink Diego caught earlier. It was worse than he thought, there was a trail of expertly placed marks running down Klaus’ lean body. “I’m talking about this little... souvenir. Or should I say, _souvenirs._ She did a number on you.” 

“D-Di!” A pale hand yanked white fabric from Diego’s grasp, Klaus clutching his thin shirt close, blush spreading and darkening. Dark eyes idly noticed the way blush blossomed on Klaus’ ears, his shoulders, his face. It was beautiful to witness, something he enjoyed with far too much glee. “You can’t just... that’s... that’s private!”

“Certainly didn’t sound private...” Diego was treated to a face full of cloth, Klaus throwing it at him, while calling him mean, a pout on his pale narrow face. A bark of laughter was pulled out of the guard, his scarred hand pulling the table napkin off his face. There was something strangely innocent about the moment, about most moments Diego spent with the charge. Soon enough Klaus was laughing too, noticing that there was some cream cheese in the guard’s hair.

A long fingered hand reached out, Diego for once being ordered around by the heir as Klaus leaned in to take the cheese out. Gentle fingers brushed over tanned skin before they wiped out the condiment. Klaus made sure all of it was gone before he started carding his fingers through short brown locks, teeth biting into a plush pink lip. Diego watched Klaus for a moment, raising a brow at him despite the fact that he wanted to relax into the touch. It had been a while since they’d been able to simply, breathe idly in each other’s presence.

“Come on... I know you like it,” were the quiet words gracing Diego’s ears, his eyes faux reluctantly falling shut. He lived for gentle touches, something which he knew from experience Klaus liked to use against him to get his wicked little way. A quiet near imperceptible hum left the guard, Diego letting himself sink into the hand petting him, small shivers crawling down his skin when Klaus brushed over a scar. “I wish... I wish I could... that we could do this more often. Especially when you’re...”

“I know, I know, thank you Klaus.” Diego replied quietly, drawing away from Klaus’ warm gentle hand despite his still shut eyes. “I appreciate it. Really. I do. But—”

“Right, right, sorry.” Klaus withdrew his hand, placing it on his lap as he looked down at his lap. There was a look on his face Diego hated seeing, quiet, apologetic, slightly shameful. A sigh left the guard, the man finding himself leaning into Klaus’ space.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Diego reached out, his hand covering Klaus’ before sliding it away. “Really, you don’t. You’ve done nothing wrong. Just... not right now, yeah? This isn’t the place for casual comfort.”

Klaus snorted, looking up at his guard, the heir leaning into his broad chest so he could curl up into his warmth. He cuddled close before retracting, sighing lightly at Diego in a way that left no room for argument. “That’s what you always say.”

* * *

Dark eyes tracked a pale body bouncing up and down, lean, lithe thighs clenching and unclenching as his pelvis jolted up before settling itself back. Even through his riding pants, Diego could see the way Klaus’ muscles flexed, his body was lean and wiry yes but there was muscle there that couldn’t be denied. A small breath of mist wafted out in front of Diego, the man’s arms crossed as he stood against the body of a white fence, his neck surrounded by the high and thick collar of his long black woolen coat that he honestly didn’t need. The Hargreeves had a strange fashion sense in his option, the coat functional and warm but there was a belt on the collar that always intrigued Diego and made him wonder if the designer was high or if he really didn’t understand fashion at all.

He tilted his head, watching as Klaus’ pretty dappled grey mare jumped over two pipes, he nodded with begrudging respect. It probably wasn’t easy learning how to ride another animal, much less figuring out how to stay on and keep control when it jumped. He’d never be caught dead riding a horse however, Diego and horses weren’t a good mix. They knew it, he knew it too, and it didn’t bother him in the slightest. His hands met together in a light clap, Klaus turning to him to see if he saw before getting chastised by his instructor for losing focus and being ordered to run it again. Diego watched idly as Klaus guided his grey horse— a Dutch Warmblood, not that he’d remember— through the same jump. His eyes eventually trailed away from the slight man doing equestrian, there was only so much of it Diego could watch before he went insane. Horses were powerful beasts, sure. Majestic, maybe. But to him they’d always be a tad too slow.

The clocks were already set back, the sun starting to dip below the horizon earlier and earlier. It was already beginning to hang low in the sky, they’d be cutting it close today with Klaus’ lessons. Close, but still safe. Fencing took place indoors and before the sun can fully die away, every single door in the mansion will lock with silver plated titanium bars sliding in place. The first floor and floor to ceiling windows gain the same treatment, only instead of bars they’re inch thick sheets. Nothing can get in, and no one can get out. Even the servants’ quarters go on lockdown. Diego saw to it himself, every emergency exit, every chink in the armor, he ironed it out until it met his meticulously thorough standard. He didn’t do it for Hargreeves senior, nor his second born son. No, this was something Diego was unafraid to admit to himself. He was so thorough with security for one person and one person only.

He’d be damned if anything ever tried to hurt his charge.

Klaus completed another jump, this one higher set with three bars, Diego clapped politely yet again, watching him with a warm affectionate gaze despite the cold and closed stance he forced himself into. The heir really was on his best behavior, a small twitch lightened the corner of Diego’s lips. He did well in his morning session, passing the quiz with a grade that didn’t make him break out with nervous sweat, his smile had brightened the room and the giggle he made would probably haunt Diego for the rest of his life. The good start followed by a hearty lunch had set the man up for success, his meeting with Madame DuBois going swimmingly. The old woman, who seemed strict and firm with an elegantly ancient air expected from a Queen, immediately warmed up to the politely bubbly demeanor Klaus brought upon himself. She wasn’t put off by Klaus’ attire, the women used to dealing with “eccentric creative folk,” something the guard had the complete misfortune of commiserating with.

Diego nearly died from shock and joy the moment Klaus pulled out an actual hardcover leather portfolio binder. It looked so professional, the bottom left hand corner proudly carrying the artist’s signature in brilliant gold. The guard could have wept had it not been for the fact he was on duty, his face a stony blank with an indifferent sharpness capable of icing over hell. Klaus had truly come into himself as a creator, the photographed pieces in his portfolio carrying an air of surreal elegance as the man combined the human body with the universe and the flowers that decided the name of his final product. It didn’t show in the pictures, but Diego knew that Klaus worked with metallic and glow in the dark paints, the man determined to make his works stand out no matter the time of day. Klaus’ gallery was confirmed, the man would have his own space to showcase his work to the public for three months, and the kind woman even mentioned that she’d put in good word at the nearby Museum. It was enough of a success that Diego put forward the recommendation to add chocolate covered strawberries to Klaus’ dessert and to skip actual dinner. He’d prefer waffles. 

The clap of firm, leather gloves drew Diego’s attention away from his reminiscing of the day’s events to Klaus who was riding his trotting horse to a slow finish, the heir dismounting his steed before grabbing her reins to lead her into the barn. The guard would not follow, horses reeked, and their barns and stalls reeked worse. His nose was too sensitive for such an onslaught of truly foul scents, the first time he attempted to follow Klaus into the barn he started sneezing so hard he nearly puked. It was completely safe anyway, animals seemed to love the lean man, reacting to him as if he were more a fairytale princess than anything else. Klaus had an air that simply begged others to trust, befriend and protect him. 

“Ready to head back?” Diego asked, turning to see Klaus stepping towards him, his legs a bit wobbly from the intense workout he just had. There was a breathless elation brightening up Klaus’ face, sweat dripping down his sharp face as he stepped over to Diego, long fingers unclasping the buckle of his helmet.

“Yeah... yeah... do I have to do fencing?” pants slipped from Klaus’ lips, his already large eyes turned so big and round, he looked ready to beg Diego not to let him go. “I just... that’s a lot, two in a row.”

“It’s your fault for skipping it yesterday,” he replied blandly, tugging Klaus close before tucking him against his warm body. Diego rubbed Klaus’ back gently, idly, taking his time to think as gravel crunched under their feet and they made their way back to the main road to the car that would drive them to the mansion. It was a decent walk with a fairly short drive, enough time to give his charge a brief reprieve and cool down before his second grueling workout. “I’ll ask to see if today can be more for a toning and motions than sparring, how’s that?”

Klaus nodded his thanks, letting himself fall quiet as he sipped at his water and let himself be guided by the broader and slightly taller man. Reaching the car, Diego pulled open the door, nodding at his charge to step inside before walking around the vehicle and sliding into his respective side. He nodded at the driver signaling for him to start driving before turning to regard Klaus, the man’s eyes starting to droop the longer he sat in his seat. The heir always seemed to rest easier in cars than in his own bed, something which both worried yet amused the bodyguard. The moment Diego was completely settled, the guard having pulled out his itinerary to check over the timing and schedules, Klaus was cuddled close to him in attempts to steal his heat.

Black curls tickled Diego’s face, his coat bunched up and discarded on his car seat due to it being too hot. Dark eyes glanced down, a burly arm reluctantly reaching out to wrap around Klaus’ middle, a calloused scarred hand rubbing up and down his side. Diego put down his itinerary, choosing to glance out the windows to watch the trees pass by instead of glancing down at the man by his side. “Riding really tired you out huh?”

“It’s been a busy day,” Klaus sighed, his eyes opening to look at the bottom of the car before glancing up at Diego, “waking up to a splash of water didn’t help.” He paused, pressing closer into the scarred man. “But this... this is good. Comfortable, makes up for the morning.”

“That’s what you get for sleeping in so late.”

Klaus looked up from the warm wall of muscles he called a pillow, glaring lightly at his guard with a pout. “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right. That’s the deal we made, remember? You can only blame yourself, Princess.”

“Sure, or I can blame the guy who did it,” a roll of the eyes, a huff of laughter, Klaus was back to cuddling into Diego. His burly arm was wrapped so firmly around the willowy man, his strong hand gently rubbing Klaus into a soothed stupor. Warm brown eyes looked down at him, a gentleness taking over Diego’s expression as his hand inched its way higher to thread through inky curls. Making sure emerald eyes were hidden behind thick lashes, Diego leaned slightly to look into the mirror. He motioned at the driver, silently telling him to slow down so Klaus could get a little more rest. The things he did for this man.

“Rest for now, I’ll wake you up when we get back.”

* * *

Fievel Hargreeves, Five to those who knew him, stared out of a tall glass window. Sharp eyes surveyed the scenery before him as scholarly associates ten years his senior bustled about behind him. His eyes glinted, watching the way the moonlight glittered over the tall pikes of pine trees. A smirk crossed his face, dimples deepening, a long low howl echoing in the forest that surrounded his father’s manor. He tipped a tumbler of scotch on ice towards the window before turning around when a man called his name.

“Fievel!” he called out, relaxing back on one of the many plush, ornate couches the Hargreeves senior owned. The man had dyed blonde hair and hazel eyes, the son of some wealthy tycoon Five never really cared to remember. His name was Jake, that’s all he knew and that’s all he cared to know, simply making pleasantries with the man to keep up appearances since his stoner brother never truly could. Not that he was much better considering how much he drank. “You watching the landscape? Or did you hear about the whispers, words been going around, you know?”

That got him interested, whispers. A thin, perfectly trimmed brow quirked, Five looking at his associate with probing curious eyes. He took another sip of scotch before setting it down on the long mahogany table, engraved glass coaster firmly set underneath. A long thin finger swipes the rim of the crystal tumbler, Five staring down at the amber liquid glinting prettily in the light. 

“What whispers?”

“Oh? You really didn’t hear?” another asked, this one had tussled black hair with stark steel eyes. His skin was paler than paper, round glasses slipping down a thin narrow nose. The man went by the moniker Mouse, Five wasn’t sure anyone knew his actual name. “I thought you dealt in information.”

“Yes, I deal in information,” his words were sharp, clipped, Five never the one to dawdle. “I don’t, however, deal in myths.” He leveled a bland look at Jake, glaring at him like he was wet paint taking too long to dry. “Are you going to tell me something worth my time? Or are you going to titter like school girls with a crush.”

“Geez, Fievel,” Jake lounged back like he owned the place, the pompous prick holding a personality that truly made his mouth go sour. It was clear he was a man who made himself comfortable everywhere and anywhere he pleased. “Easy there, prodigy boy. We’re all friends here, you may act older but you’re still younger than us.”

 _‘Yes, and for every year I’m younger I’m five IQ points smarter.’_ He barely held himself back from lashing out with his blade like tongue, choosing instead to smirk and snort at the man before him. If he played the part now, he’d get months uninterrupted by anyone but his annoying brother to simply do his equations, with Dolores popping up every so often. He needed someone on his caliber to bounce his ideas off of, Klaus was... his talents lie elsewhere. Staring the man down, Five said nothing beyond simply keeping his gaze blank, steady, and unblinking. He’ll crack eventually, they always do.

“Word on the street is that,” Five smirked to himself, too easy, “someone is going to take advantage of your father’s absence. Maybe try to come in and kidnap your brother.”

“That’s a foolish endeavor,” he replied, “we have the best security money can buy. Or train, rather. Anyone who tries is lacking more brain than the disturbing toxic waste blanking out my brother’s.”

“I don’t know, Fievel,” he turned, not expecting someone to disagree with him. A different man, lightly tanned skin, brown eyes, sandy hair. Plainer than a plate of white bread. “I don’t see that big burly guy, didn’t he go with Sir Hargreeves, would’ve figured he’s the one in charge? I won’t lie, I feel better knowing he’s around. Strong, all that muscle, he’s scary to see sometimes.”

“Luther?” Five couldn’t help but snort derisively, rolling his eyes. “He’s a big guy, yes, but he’s not running security here. That falls into his brother’s jurisdiction. Dad likes to bring him around because he likes to show off, tells the crowd something when he’s followed around by someone like Luther.”

“His brother?” someone else now, Five didn’t even deign to look this time. He was bored with this game, like they were turning over the mic to ask questions at some kind of Q&A for an overfunded indie movie.

“Yes, his brother. You do have eyes don’t you?” He turned, seeing confused yet hurt stares from most of his companions. Fools, the lot of them, how does someone forget an entire person? A quiet groan of disappointment echoed from one corner, Five not even needing to look to know who it was.

“The one with the scars,” a black haired with strong yet gentle bone structure, with eternally well-coiffed black hair; Ben, Klaus’ best friend and the only one of the bunch allowed to call the young Hargreeves “Five.” Noises of realization rose through the room and Five wondered, not for the first time, what happened in the world that this bumbling band of baboons was what passed as a group of scholars and higher thinkers. “He’s always in that god awful black turtleneck trailing after Klaus.”

“Oh, the angry one.”

“I think his face is permanently stuck in a scowl.”

“He’s small next to Luther.”

“That guy...”

“I talked to him once and I’m pretty sure he tried to bite my hand.”

“You asked him if he was a waiter.”

“He dressed like a waiter, you can’t blame me if all the help looks alike.”

“That’s what happens when you get them from the cages.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jake was holding up his hand as if he were the one fending off a barrage of questions from a field of idiots. “So your brother’s bodyguard is the one heading security here? That seems like a terrible idea.”

“Well Klaus is rarely allowed to leave,” that Europe trip really dashed most of Klaus’ off mansion social interactions. Despite his isolation, Klaus was still regarded as a well known socialite, which was fair considering he lived for and thrived off attention. “It’s better to hire extra muscle once in a while than it is to pay too much all year round.”

“So you’re that confident in... what’s his name again?”

“Diego, his name is Diego,” Ben sighed, pinching his nose. The black haired man stood up, the floors creaking underneath his shined shoes as he stepped over to Five. Ben rarely drank, but clearly listening to the “scholars” drone on was starting to get to him. The young Hargreeves was the only one to hear Ben grumble under his breath. “You should learn his name, he’s the one who’ll toss you out.” 

“Alright Diego,” Jake took a swallow from his tumbler, pointing at Five as he spoke. “You’re that confident in him? He doesn’t seem like much... he’s more like a runt.”

“Yes well,” Five reached out to pick up a toothpick, the young man stabbing it through the flesh of a mango, “I find that runts fight the hardest to survive.”

Another howl echoed through the woods, this one closer. The howl was followed by a predatory growl that struck Five to his core, the noise deep and snarling as if it were ripping the chords of the creature who made it. 

A howl again.

“Seems like the rumors were true. I feel bad for the groundskeeper,” Five turned, glancing over his shoulder to look out the window, smirk on his face as shouts joined the howls.

“There’s gonna be a lot of blood to clean up in the morning.”


End file.
